


A Long Time Coming

by scifigrl47



Series: Phil Coulson's Case Files of the Toasterverse [19]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crazy cat people, F/M, Harris is a walking tire fire, Harris was an Navy brat and never had a pet, M/M, OC silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8517217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifigrl47/pseuds/scifigrl47
Summary: Harris gets a cat.  In the most complicated way he can.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just Darcy and my OCs in this one, guys, with brief, verbal phone cameos from a couple of headliners. It's just a quiet, silly little piece about finding home.
> 
> I think a lot of us need that now.

There was a man sitting on the front stairs.

Terri paused, her hand locked on the handle of her car door as she considered if this was a threat or not. She flipped her keys around in her free hand, letting the heavy weight of the rattle against her hip. The man didn't move, he just sat there, elbows braced on his knees, his head hanging down.  The early morning light glinted on off of the thin film of snow on the steps, on the bushes, on the dark panes of the windows.    
She was pretty sure he was asleep.  There was snow on his shoulders, on his blonde hair.  He wasn’t wearing a hat, or gloves, but his heavy pea coat hung low over his legs and wrists.  
Shaking her head, Terri stalked across the parking lot, kicking gravel as she went. The clatter of the rocks brought his head up, and for a moment, he blinked owlishly at nothing in particular. The expression on his face was almost funny, a sort of benign befuddlement. It seemed to suit his face in a way that she couldn't quite define, as if his face was suited to that sort of confusion.

“Morning,” Terri said. “Your ex steal your dog?”

The man blinked at her. She was close enough now to see the pale blue of his eyes beneath the flop of his blonde hair. “What?” he asked.

“Cat?” Terri asked. She stepped around him, skipping up the steps. “Please tell me you're here for the ferrets, they're-”

“Ferrets?” He scrambled to his feet, brushing the dusting of snow off of his rear. There was a folded stack of paper in one hand, and it crinkled against his hip. “I don't-”

Terri unlocked the front door. “Wait here,” she said, briskly, and shut the door in his face. She walked back to the office, flicking the lights on as she went, reaching the alarm box before it could start to wail. She punched in the code with one hand, and flicked the coffee pot on with the other. The carafe rattled against the hot plate, and there was a hiss as the water started to flow. 

She grabbed an apron from the hook as she headed back to the front door. She opened it. The man was standing where she'd left him, waiting patiently in the cold morning air, his shoulders hunched forward under the weight of his dark coat. “Great, you can follow instructions.” She stepped back, waving him in. “Welcome to the Morgantown Animal Rescue.”

He stepped inside, looking a bit wary. “Ferrets?”

“Yeah. A woman dropped off three ferrets yesterday.” She She walked around the main room, checking the bird cages one after another, leaning over to peer into the hamster tanks and the rat cages.  Everything was stirring, and everyone had food and water.  She scritched the cranky macaw under her chin, cooing at her until she flapped her wings.  Then Terri retreated walked behind the main counter, flipping on the computer and glancing at the answering machine. “Thought you might be here to get them back.”

The man dragged his feet back and forth on the welcome mat, kicking off the snow. “But if I woman dropped them off-”

“Sometimes, people do not react well to breakups,” Terri said, folding her arms on the counter. “Most people we get waiting at the front door before we open are trying to pick up a pet that shouldn't be here.”

The man glanced up at her, his brows drawing up tight. “People... Steal their ex's PETS?”

He sound so legitimately horrified that Terri had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Yeah. People are assholes sometimes.” The coffee pot beeped, and she looked back towards the office. The smell was leaking out now, the dark, heavy smell of the beans mingling with the scent of dog fur and antiseptic. “But if you're looking for a new friend instead of an old one, you can feel free to look around. The cat room's up front, dogs are back down the corridor, anyone who has a green check mark magnet on their cage is up for adoption. Anyone with a yellow thermometer magnet is undergoing medical treatment and can't be adopted just yet, but if one of them strikes your fancy, you can put down a deposit and come back when their treatment's done.”

He peered into the cat room. “That would be hard, so I'm hoping I don't have to.”

Terri hopped up onto the stool behind the counter. She had animals to feed and cages to clean, but that could wait a few minutes. “If it's your work schedule, you can make arrangements and someone can hold the animal until you can get here one night.”

He nodded. “I'm from out of town.”

“Oh?” Terri grinned. She grabbed one of the clipboards from the shelf behind her, already loaded up with the adoption paperwork. She tossed it on the counter in front of her. “Where're you from? Granville? Brookhaven?”

He paused. Smiled. Just a little, the corners of his mouth tugging up. “New York,” he said.

Terri stopped in the act of reaching for a pen. She studied him. “New York.” He nodded. “Like, New YORK, New York.”

“Like, New York City, New York,” he agreed.

Terri shifted forward, leaning her chin on one hand. “That's like, five hours away.”

“Six and a half, actually, if you follow the speed limit.”

She considered that. “It's eight am.”

“I started driving at one am,” he admitted.

Terri opened her mouth. Shut it. Shook her head. “Okay, I don't know what to do with this info, I really don't, why-”

A folded set of papers landed on the counter in front of her. “Internet.”

She knew she shouldn't pick them up. Don't get involved. Maria'd be here in like, half an hour. Maria could deal with this. Maria was good with dealing with the crazies. But Terri glanced up, and the man was still smiling at her, just a little, and it was a nice smile on a nice face. She picked up the pages with her left hand and extended her right. “Terri.”

He clasped her hand. “Harrison MacIntyre,” he said. “I'm here about a cat.”

*

"He drove from New York to West Virginia."

"That's what he said."

"For a cat."

"Seems so."

Maria folded her hands on her desk in front of her, leveling a steel-eyed look in Terri's direction. "They don't have cats in New York?"

Terri made a tsking noise under her breath. "He wants a SPECIFIC cat." She leaned back in her chair. "Told you the Facebook posts would pay off."

Maria threw her hands up. "Yes. You told me. You told me, over and over and-"

"It worked, didn't it?" Terri interrupted, because she knew this rant. This rant could go on for a while and she had class in two hours. Maria shook her head, muttering under her breath in Italian, and Terri rolled her eyes. "It worked. He's here to get a cat."

"He drove overnight from New York," Maria said. "He might be mad."

"Chances are pretty good, but hey, he brought references," Terri said. She held out the stack of adoption paperwork to Maria, who looked at it like it was a poisonous snake. "Okay, so he might be crazy, do we care? Our only question is, is he an animal abusing kind of crazy? Because that's bad. But just run of the mill loony, that's fine."

"That's not fine."

"That's 75% of our customer base, Maria!" Terri kicked a bag of kitty litter with the side of her foot. "Can you give him a chance?"

Maria opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the office door opened. "There's a guy sitting on the floor of the cat room," Warner said, poking his head in. His eyes darted between them. "Just sittin' there."

"Thank you, Warner," Maria said, rubbing her forehead. "We're aware."

Warner nodded. He looked over his shoulder. "He's just sitting on the ground."

"Yes, we KNOW," Terri said, trying for the icy tones she used when she wanted asshole pickup artists to leave her alone on club nights.

It had no effect on Warner. It never did. "Any idea why?" he asked, propping an arm on the doorframe. 

"He says he's here for a cat," Terri said.

"He isn't looking at the cats," Warner said. "He's looking at his phone."

Maria dropped down behind her desk. "Yes, but Terri opened Slink's cage."

Warner's eyebrows arched. "He's here for Slink?"

"Yep."

He looked at Terri. "Really?"

She grinned. "He saw my Facebook posts."

"Huh." Warner nodded. "How's Slinky-Dink taking it?"

"How's Slink take anything?" Terri asked. "Quietly."

“Warner, can you please go put the dogs in the kennel for a little while?” Maria asked. Werner's face fell, and Maria gave him a smile. “Please?”

He made a face, but he nodded. “Sure.”

He retreated, leaving the office door open, and Maria stood up, crossing to close it before Terri could make good her escape. “You,” she said, pointing a finger in Terri's direction. “This is your fault. You and your Facebook posts.”

“Right,” Terri said, cheerful about it.

“Call his references.” Maria stalked back to her chair and dropped down into it. Her lips pursed, she picked up her reading glasses and popped them on her nose. 

“I don't think I'm qualified to-” Maria's eyes came up, dark and dangerous over the rims of her glasses, and Terri gave her a broad grin. “I can call his references.”

Maria humphed out an approving noise. “Good girl,” she said, and Terri grabbed Harris' adoption forms. 

There were two names listed, and the second one made her choke on a laugh. Maria gave her an inquiring look. “He's got a sense of humor,” Terri explained, shaking her head, and reaching for Maria's phone. “Let's go with the real one, shall we?” She dialed, and leaned back in her chair, feeling very professional.

The phone was picked up on the first ring. “Coulson.”

The voice was brisk and no-nonsense, and Terri cleared her throat. “Hi,” she said, giving up on professionalism. “This is Terri Height, of the Morgantown Animal Shelter.”

A beat of silence. “Yes?”

“I'm calling to do a reference check,” she said.

“I think you have the wrong number, the HR department would be better suited to-”

“Oh, no, it's a personal reference,” Terri rushed out. “We have a potential adopter here who's listed you as someone who can vouch for him.” 

Another pause. “May I ask who?”

Terri looked down at the adoption sheet. “Harrison MacIntyre, Mr. Coulson.”

This time, the pause was so long that she thought maybe he'd hung up. “Mr. Coulson?”

“May I speak to Harris, please?”

“Oh- Okay? One second.” She punched the hold button and rolled to her feet. “He wants to talk to Harris,” she explained to Maria.

Maria waved a hand at the door. “Because nothing is easy.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you got into the high pressure world of animal adoptions!” Terri agreed. She ducked out of the office, and hustled up the hallway.

The cat room was the biggest of their half a dozen rooms, with big, wide windows and neat rows of cages on the shelves. Usually during the day, Terri would open all the cages, giving the cats the choice to wander the room, nap on the sunny windowsills or run and play around the climbing structure that ran around the edges of the room, just under the ceiling.

Today, though, all the cages were still closed. Except one.

Terri opened the door and leaned inside. Harris looked up from his spot on the floor. “Anything?” Terri asked.

He shook his head. “No. It's okay.” He gave her a slight smile. 

“Your reference wants to talk to you,” Terri said, jerking her chin back towards Maria's office. “Can you come here for a second?”

“Somehow, I'm not surprised.” He scrambled to his feet. It wasn't graceful, but he managed it, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Should I-” He gestured at his things. “Should I take my coat?”

“Don't worry about it.” Terri crossed the room, going on her tiptoes to peer into the one open cage. Big yellow eyes stared back at her from the shadows, still and unblinking. Terri smiled. “Hey, Slinky-Dinky,” she whispered. “Gonna come out?” 

There was no movement, and she sighed. “Come on, cat. Don't you want to leave here?”

“Where am I-”

Terri turned to Harris, who was hovering in doorway. “Back across the lobby,” she said, pointing. “The open door, that's Maria's office, just head back there.” She followed after him, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Maria looked up when they walked in. “Problem?” she asked with a tight smile.

“No, sorry, can I put this on speaker?” Harris asked, and Maria waved a hand towards the phone in a 'feel free' gesture. He punched the button. “I haven't been kidnapped.” Terri stared at him, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “Sorry.” Terri realized her mouth was hanging open, and she shut it with a snap.

“Imagine my relief,” Mr. Coulson said. “How's the knee?”

Harris braced his hands on the desk. “I have NOT been kidnapped, stop giving me code phrases.”

“Well, then, answer them properly,” Mr. Coulson said. “How's the knee?”

“Fine, as long as it's not raining,” Harris sing-songed.

“Are you in West Virginia?” Mr. Coulson asked.

“Did you trace the call?” Harris asked. There was no answer, and he groaned. “Yes. I'm in West Virginia.”

“How did you end up in West Virginia?”

“I took Route 81,” Harris said. “Can you please just tell them I can be trusted with a cat?”

“He can be trusted with a cat,” Mr. Coulson said, deadpan, and Harris threw his hands in the air. 

Terri glanced at Maria. Maria was staring at Harris, her eyes huge. Terri cleared her throat. “Mr. Coulson, how do you know Harris?”

“We're coworkers,” Mr. Coulson said. 

Terri waited, and Harris sighed. “He's not going to volunteer any information you don't specifically ask for, it's not... He just won't.”

“Do you want me to?” Mr. Coulson asked. He sounded vaguely amused.

“It would make things easier,” Harris said.

“Fine. I'm Agent Phil Coulson, of SHIELD. Harris is what we term a support agent, level three-”

“I'm a level two, sir,” Harris interrupted. 

“Not anymore, your clearance paperwork went through last week,” Mr. Coulson said.

Harris blinked. “When were you going to tell me?”

There was a long, sustained slurp. “Apparently, now.”

Maria stared at Harris. “This is who you have listed as a reference?” she asked.

“I have a very limited circle of friends,” Harris admitted.

“That's not true, actually.” Coulson's voice changed, taking on a calm, no-nonsense tone. “Agent MacIntyre is well respected and well regarded by his colleagues. He's well liked by his friends. He has a steady job that pays him a living wage, but he is not a field agent, so his schedule shouldn't pose any difficulty. In a state of emergency, he has people who can assist him with taking care of a pet.”

“I'm a computer analyst,” Harris said. “What kind of a state of emergency would I be involved in?”

“We live in interesting times, Harris.”

“Could you just tell them I'm not crazy?” 

“Due to his government clearance,” Coulson said promptly, “he has to undergo psychiatric evaluations regularly.”

There was silence. Terri glanced at Harris, who had pressed a hand to his face. “Does he, uh, pass?” she asked at last.

“Yes.”

“Well, that's good!” she said. Maria looked at her. Terri shrugged, helpless.

“Do you have any other questions for me?” Mr. Coulson asked.

“I think that covers it,” Terri said. “Thank you for your time.”

“Of course. Harris? Does anyone know where you are right now?”

Harris pulled a face. “No.”

A faint sigh. “When will you be back? In case someone notices?”

“Sunday,” Harris said. He sank into Maria's visitor chair. “Don't... Tell anyone?”

“Who would I tell?” There was a faint click, and the line went dead.

Terri folded her legs. “Do you get kidnapped often?” she asked.

“Terri!” Maria snapped.

“What? It's a legitmate question! I mean-”

“Just once,” Harris said, with a faint smile.

Terri reached for his adoption forms. “So. Your second reference isn't a joke, is it?”

He paused. “Who did I list-”

She held it up in front of him. “Tony Stark.”

Harris considered Terri, his mouth a thin, flat line. “Well, that was pretty stupid,” he said at last.

Terri tapped a finger against the page. “Tell me this is Tony Stark's phone number,” she said, her voice rising to an unfortunate pitch. Harris gaped at her. She stopped. Cleared her throat. “Well?”

“It's not,” Harris said. “Don't call it.”

“Oh, I'm calling it,” Terri said, plopping down on the edge of the desk.

“Terri, I think we've got enough information,” Maria said, her eyes going narrow.

“It's not even him,” Harris said, even as Terri dialed. 

“You just give out his number?” she asked.

“It goes to a relay service, he has, like a million numbers, if you annoy him, he'll disconnected it, and why am I telling you this?” Harris asked her, his face pained.

“I'm very persuasive,” she said with a grin, and put the phone on speaker.

“Time is money,” the familiar voice said.

“Hello,” Terri said. “This is Terri Height of the Morgantown Animal Rescue. Harrison MacIntyre listed you as a personal reference on his adoption form.”

“Really.”

Terri stared down at the phone. “Yes?”

“Do you know who I am?”

She grinned. “Mr. Stark, EVERYONE knows who you are.”

“That is the right answer. Please hold.”

“Oh, su-” Before Terri could even finish the word, there was a click, and then-

“Memmmmmmries, light the corners of my miiiiiiiiiiiind. Misty water colored MEEEEEEEMRIES, of the way we weeeeeeeeeere-”

Terri realized her mouth was hanging open. “Is this-” She looked up at Harris, who was staring at the ceiling with the expression of a man beseeching an uncaring God. “Is this Barbara Streisand?”

“I love this song,” Maria said, leaning her chin on one hand. She hummed along, her eyes floating shut.

“His hold music is BARBARA STREISAND?” Terri asked Harris.

“I'm somehow not surprised,” Harris said. He sounded resigned. His pocket started buzzing, and he let out a sigh. “I should take this.” He didn't seem particularly enthused by the notion.

Maria waved a hand in his direction, swaying back in forth in her seat. “Can it be that it was all so simple then,” she warbled along.

“Wow, Maria,” Terri said to her, grinning. Maria ignored her.

Harris fished his phone out of his pocket and triggered it with a flick of his thumb. “Just once,” he said, “can you not be difficult?”

Whatever reply he got, it seemed to be the one he was expecting. Terri watched, amused despite herself, as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb, his eyes scrunching shut. “Yes,” he said. And again, “Yes. Okay, it wasn't one of my brightest moves, I know that, okay?”

Harris straightened up. “I was sleep deprived and I filled out the form after I got here and I didn't want to put Darcy's number on there, and apparently, you were the next name that popped to mind.” He paused. “Yes. No, actually I'd say it's ALWAYS stupid to involve you, but-” He stopped. “Can you please just tell them I can take care of a cat?”

He went quiet, listening. Terri leaned back on her hands, trying not to grin. He had a remarkably mobile face, and whatever Stark was saying, it wasn't being well received. “Tony. Tony.” His eyes shut. “Tony.”

“I think it's going well,” Terri said to Maria.

“TONY!” Harris said, loud enough to make her jump. “Can you just-” He stopped, and held his phone out in front of him. “He hung up on me.”

Barbara stopped singing mid-word. “Thank you for holding,” Stark said cheerfully. “Now, where were we?”

Harris leaned over the desk. “I hate you,” he said.

“That is the general consensus,” Stark said. “Now, you had a question for me?”

“Yes,” Terri said. “Your hold music is Barbara fuckin' Streisand?”

“It varies,” he said. “Mostly Streisand. Occasionally Raffi. During election season, Barney. Makes the politicians nuts. But the possibility of campaign contributions will make even the weakest man capable of withstanding a few verses.”

Terri blinked. “Barney? Barney the big purple dinosaur?”

“Tony, can you please focus?” Harris asked.

“No,” Stark said, sounding gleeful.

Harris threw his hands up. “Right.”

Terri cleared her throat. “How do you know Harris?” she asked, folding her legs and tapping a pen against Harris' adoption paperwork.

“I owe him a life debt,” Stark said.

“Oh, JESUS CHRIST,” Harris said.

“So if we give him a cat, will you pay that debt to us?” Terri asked. “Because we are a registered non-profit, and we could always use-”

“Terri!” Maria snapped, slapping a hand over the phone speaker.

“What?” Terri hissed at her. “Listen, I'm getting some kitty litter out of him, I have no shame!”

“I like you, kid,” Stark said from between Maria's fingers. “Give Harris your card, I'll see what I can do for you. Now, does he get a cat?”

“Maria?” Terri asked.

Maria's lips were moving, and Terri wasn't sure if she was cursing or praying. “Yes, fine, please, anything to make this end.”

“Great, glad we could do business,” Stark said. “Now, if you'll excuse me, someone's shooting at me, I should probably handle that, Harris, don't only call when you need something, it's very hurtful, I don't know why you can't just-”

Harris reached out and disconnected the phone with a punch of his finger. “Right,” he said.

“Well, that was rude,” Terri said.

“I'd like to go back to the cat room now,” Harris said.

Maria stood. “So would I.”

*

“Do you have a litter box?”

“No.”

“A carrier?”

“No.”

“Food?”

“No. I mean yes. But only for me. Not for a cat.” Harris sat still as a cat walked over his shoulders. Its tail flicked against his cheek, and Harris had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from giggling.

“Leash? Halter?” Terri asked, tapping her pen against the form. 

“Do cats need leashes?” Harris asked. “I thought that was a dog thing. Isn't that a dog thing?”

“Not if you're going to drive for six or seven hours,” Terri said. A fluffy ball of black and white fur batted at the end of her pen, and she wiggled it just out of reach. “Poor thing's going to need to leave the carrier for at least a few minutes, buddy.” A paw smacked at her wrist, and she gave the cat a look. “Watch the claws, fluffblubber.”

The cat rolled over on its back, making a happy little mewing noise.

“I do not have a leash,” Harris said.

“Were you prepared to get a cat at all?” Terri asked him. 

“No,” Harris said. There was a tug at his foot and he lifted it a bit to make his shoelace trail across the ground. A sleek little Siamese looking cat pounced, tail whipping through the air. “Know what I do have, though?”

“What?”

“A credit card and directions to the nearest pet super store,” Harris said, making Terri laugh. “I mean, don't you have a checklist of, like, SO YOU WANT TO OWN A CAT?” He spread his hands out in front of him. “I cannot be the first person to not know about cat leashes.”

“We do, in fact, have a checklist,” Terri said. “And, technically, we can sell you the basics. Food, litter, toys, even a carrier, we pretty much sell 'em on cosignment for a local store and use it as a fund raiser.”

Harris gave her a look. “So you're just messing with me?”

“Eh, a little bit. How else can we tell if you're ready for cat ownership?” Terri asked with a gamine grin.

Harris leaned forward. “Is anyone ever REALLY ready for cat ownership?” he asked. He felt a weight hit his back and little paws wandered their way up the length of his spine. “Hi,” he said.

“Mew,” the cat said, pinpricks of claws digging into his shirt.

“Right, I agree,” Harris said. “Don't cut me.”

“You might be ready for cat ownership,” Terri said. She scooped up a small ball of tabby fur and set it on her lap. The cat arched into her fingers, purring audibly. 

“Hooray,” Harris said. “Any other questions?”

“A couple.” Terri leaned forward, wrapping herself around the kitten. “Who are you adopting this cat for?”

Harris blinked. The little Siamese tugged hard on his shoe lace. “Is... Is that a trick question?” Terri made a non-commital noise, and he leaned back. “Me?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “That is the correct answer!”

“Just out of curiosity,” Harris said, because he never could keep his mouth shut, “what's the wrong answer?”

“There's a spectrum. 'My girlfriend,' that's not great, 'my kid,' that can sometimes work out as long as any other adult in the household knows and agrees, but I think the worst is, 'my girlfriend's kid.'” Terri sighed. “We get a lot of 'returns' from people who think that they're making a grand romantic gesture and find out that a puppy cannot, actually, fix their relationship problems. If the cat's for your girlfriend, your girlfriend should probably be involved in choosing the cat, ya know?”

“I'm hoping my girlfriend doesn't notice I've adopted a cat,” Harris said. Terri looked at him. He gave her a hopeful smile. “Pretty sure it'll be fine.”

“Is she particularly unobservant?” Terri asked.

“Not at all.”

“Does she not spend any time in your apartment?”

“She's there all the time,” Harris admitted. Someone was chewing on his sleeve. He ignored it. He'd never liked this shirt anyway.

“So, how do you see this working out for you?” Terri asked, scooping up a cat that was chasing another cat. “Punishment cuddles,” she told the cat, and pulled it into her lap.

“I'm trying to think positive,” Harris said. “I'm not used to it, so I'm not sure I'm doing it right.”

“Well, you've got the stupid part down, so...” Her voice trailed away. “Look, it's going to be hard for you to bring him back, if it doesn't work out, does your girlfriend hate cats or something?”

“Oh, no,” Harris said. “I mean-” He choked on a laugh. “You would not ask that question if you'd ever seen her with a cat. She can sense a cat from like, a hundred yards.” He stopped, a smile curling his lips. “Dogs, too. Darcy just-” He shrugged. “Darcy likes animals. She's the kind of person animals tend to like, so, that's a plus.” He looked up. “Right?”

“Usually,” Terri agreed, smiling back. “But she doesn't have one of her own? Or a dog?”

“No, she lives with her friend, and Jane's allergic to anything and everything with fur. Darcy tried. Dogs. Cats. Rabbits. She borrowed a chinchilla from a coworker, thought that might do the trick,” Harris said. 

“Didn't work?”

“Didn't work,” Harris agreed. “Really, really didn't work.” Jane had ended up looking pink and puffy for what seemed like the next week, and Darcy had hidden at Harris' place. It wasn't funny, or maybe it was more accurate to say that it hadn't been funny at the time, but now, it kind of was. 

He was still smart enough not to bring it up around Jane, though.

The door to the cat room opened, and Maria leaned through the gap. “Terri, I need you to help a family with the dogs, please.” A cat tried to slip past her, and Maria snagged it without missing a beat. “No you don't, Luke, back in there, please.” 

“Can't Warner do it?” Terri asked. She held up Harris' sadly crumpled forms. “I've got paperwork to do.”

“Warner's helping Joann with Mia,” Maria said, rolling her eyes.

“Mia's the macaw,” Terri explained to Harris. “She hates me.”

“She hates everyone,” Maria said with the sort of serene calm of a woman who'd seen it all. “Except, for some reason, Warner.”

“She recognizes a similar intellect,” Terri said. She rolled to her feet.

“Terri,” Maria said, her voice stern.

“I know, I know, that's rude. Mia's smarter than him.” Terri gave Harris a grin. “Don't steal all our cats, okay? I've got some dogs to move.”

Harris looked at Maria as Terri slipped out of the room. “Should I leave? I mean-”

Maria waved him off. “No, it's fine.” She glanced at the cages. “He still hasn't come out?”

Harris couldn't see into Slink's cage from this angle, but he shook his head. “Nothing,” he said with a faint smile.

She cradled Luke in her arms, rubbing his ears. “What're you going to do if he doesn't come out?”

Harris took a deep breath. “I'm pretty patient,” he said at last. “And I've got sick time. I'll give it a few days.”

Maria studied him, her round face unreadable. But she didn't say a word. She just nodded. “Take all the time you need,” she said, and put Luke back into the room before she shut the door.

It was quiet, with just him and the cats. They milled around, some wanting attention, some ignoring him completely. He played with a few, an eager black kitten and a slightly wobbly calico, both of whom chased balls and stole strings from his fingers. They eventually curled up on either side of him, the calico in a neat little loaf, her legs tucked under her, the kitten flopped out on its back.

Exhausted now, Harris stared up at Slink's cage. “Hey,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know this is tough, okay? I'm not good at these things. I don't think you are, either.” He shifted, folding his legs under him, and a big white cat picked its way carefully into the lap he'd just made. Harris scritched it behind the ear, cautiously at first, and then with more force as the cat leaned into his fingers.

“I might not be the right person for you, but I'm pretty stubborn,” he continued. “I don't give up easily. And I don't, well, I don't need much from you.”

He looked up, towards the window, where two cats were sharing space, sleeping together in the sunbeams there. “But I know what it's like to be unwanted.”

Harris took a breath, his fingers curling into the fur of the cat on his lap. It was soft and smooth against his skin, warm and comforting somehow. “Someone said to me once-” He stopped, a lump caught in his throat, and tried to swallow. It didn't work; he felt like he was choking, like he couldn't breathe, like he-

“Mrrrw?”

Harris blinked, sucking in a breath with enough force to make himself light headed. The cat in his lap was staring up at him with big pale eyes. Harris stared back, and the cat bumped its head against his fingers. Harris let out a breath in a laugh, stroking a palm over the cat's head.

“Someone said to me once,” he said, and his voice was mostly steady this time. “I want you. Do you want me?” He smiled. “That's all that matters. I want you.” He looked up. “Do you want me?”

There was no response from the cage, and Harris let out a sigh.

“It's okay,” he said. He gently shifted the cat off of his lap, giving it one last scratch under its chin. He could feel it purring against his knuckles. “I'm going to get something to eat since, oops, I may have forgotten to eat since yesterday and I'm just remembering that now, but as soon as I find something like a diner, I'll be back. Okay? Maybe you'll get used to me.”

He reached for his coat, abandoned on the floor just out of reach. “Maybe they'll let me put out your food or-”

Harris stilled, the fabric of his coat caught in one hand. Because there, buried deep in the folds, a little grey and black tabby was curled up, eyes open and watching him warily. Harris smiled. “Hi, Slink,” he said. “Know what? You can keep it.”

*

“All right, we've given him a very mild sedative, just to relax him.” Maria tucked the receipt into the folder with Slink's medical records and a wide variety of helpful pamphlets for new pet owners. “But I actually think he'll be fine, he's traveled quite a bit.”

Terri put the bag of supplies on the counter. “He's been to ever PetCo adoption event in a fifty mile radius.” She folded her arms on the edge of the counter and leaned over, bracing her chin on her wrist. Slink was curled up, the tip of his striped tail flicking slowly up and down. “Ready for your trip, Slinky-Dink?” she asked him. He yawned, his paws flexing.

“Warner's loaded a bag of litter and a bag of food into your trunk, and we can help you with the rest of this.” Maria handed Harris his credit card back. “If it doesn't work out-” Her eyes darted towards Terri, and Terri pushed herself upright with a sigh.

“All of our cats come with a money back guarantee,” she said with a grin.

Maria set one hand on the counter, and the other on her hip. “Stop telling people that.”

“It's true,” Terri said. She gave Maria an innocent look. “Isn't it?”

Maria turned back to Harris. “If for any reason it doesn't work out,” she said, with a warm, gentle smile, “you can come back, and we can apply the amount you've paid towards another animal.”

Harris nodded, and took the folder she pushed across the counter towards him. “Does... Does that happen a lot?” he asked.

“Not a lot, but we'd prefer the animal come back to us than be abandoned or dropped at a shelter that would have to put it down,” Maria said. She paused, and she busied herself with putting the cap back on her pen. “I know it's a long drive, but-”

Harris nodded. “I think we're going to be fine,” he said. He shifted his weight, and zipped up his coat. “But yeah. If he hates me, I'll bring him back.” He looked up with a smile. “I promise.”

Maria nodded. “He's fixed, and he's healthy, his medical records are there, and there's a list of vets we'd recommend in your area, and-” She stopped. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Yeah.” Harris tucked his hands in his pockets. “Why'd he end up named Slink?”

She smiled. “When he was brought in, he was very small, and very underweight. Between the fact that you could see his ribs and his stripes, he looked like a coiled slinky.”

“That and he's a skittish little monster,” Terri said. “He is the slinkiest.” She looked up at Harris. “Mind if I give him one let pet?”

Harris grinned. “Go right ahead.”

Maria gathered herself up, and extended a hand to Harris. “It was very... Odd to meet you, Mr. MacIntyre. I hope I never see you again.”

Harris burst out laughing. “Know what, that's a very common reaction to me.” He shook her hand. “Sorry about the... General weirdness,” he finished at last. “I'd say it's unusual, but I'm starting to accept that it's my life.”

“Better yours than mine,” Maria said, and she headed back into her office. The door shut behind her with a firm click. 

“Don't take offense,” Terri said. She opened the carrier and slipped a hand inside. Slink's fur was soft and fine, and she smoothed her fingers over his head before giving him a gentle scratch behind one ear. He leaned against her fingers, arching into her touch, and Terri smiled. “She likes you. Or you wouldn't have gotten a cat.”

“I'll take your word on that,” Harris said. He peered into the bag that Terri had put together for him. “There's treats in here, right?”

“His favorite kind. Make sure you take him out of the carrier a few times on the drive home, if he needs to use the bathroom, he's going to be uncomfortable and agitated,” she said. He nodded, and Terri looked at the window. “Did you sleep well?”

Harris nodded. “Yeah, thanks for the hotel recommendation, driving home on no sleep was probably not the best idea.”

Terri took a deep breath. “Well, as much as it sucks to waste your weekend, I wanted you to have a night to think about it,” Terri said. “In case you were going to change your mind, better to do it now than at four am while on the way home.”

“Didn't think I was coming back?” Harris asked. He tied off the handles of the bag.

“Pretty sure you were, but people have surprised me before.”

"You were going to take him, weren't you?"

Terri looked up. Harris was watching her, an expression she couldn't quite read on his face. She smiled, and it didn't feel as fake as she'd been afraid it would. "I was thinking about it." She gave Slink one last scritch behind his ear, and zipped up the carrier door.

Harris nodded, a slight, jerky dip of his chin. "Look, I can-" he started, and Terri cut him off.

"I live in a dorm," she said. "And my parents aren't..." She stopped. "They aren't 'pet people.' So, I figured, if he was still here in two years, when I got a real apartment, when I wasn't living in the dorms or at home, then..." Her voice trailed away, and she realized her hand was still resting on the carrier. She pulled it back, her fingers curling into her palm. "I didn't want to have to do it, though, because that meant two years. Another two years of being here and-" 

Her eyes were burning, and she blinked hard. "I didn't want him to still be here. This is what I wanted. I wanted someone else to take him, okay? Today. Yesterday. Six months ago." She looked at Harris, her chin up, ignoring the way her lashes felt wet every time she blinked. "But at least, there was a hard limit. Two more years, and he'd be out."

Harris studied her for a long moment, then smiled. It was a small smile, but she smiled back anyway. "So what's this?" he asked. "Time off for good behavior?"

"He is incapable of behaving well," Terri said. "But..." She looked down at the carrier. "Parole?" She straightened up. "I'm glad. I'm glad you saw my Facebook posts, I'm glad you drove here, I'm glad you're taking him. There'll be another one who needs a home, when I've got a home and it means that for the next two years, he'll be in super exciting New York hunting dust bunnies while you're off doing some sort of secret agent stuff."

"I type on a computer all day," Harris said.

"But I bet you do it in a secretive manner."

"Not at work," Harris said, and he glanced at the carrier. "Hey. Let's make a deal." He looked back to Terri. "If he doesn't work out with me, I won't come back here. I can live with him for two years. That's..." He shrugged. "Two years isn't that long of a time, really." He scraped a hand over his face. "So I can wait. And if you get out of school, and you need him, he'll be with me."

Terri crossed her arms, trying not to think about it, trying not to want it. "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Yeah." He held out a hand. "Deal?"

She looked down at it, then back up at him. "What happens if by then, he's your best friend and you can't bear to give him up?"

Harris didn't drop his hand. "You seem like the sort of person who'd do what's best for the cat. If he was happy and healthy with me, would you still want to take him?"

Terri blinked, trying to ignore the way her chest ached with each breath. "There are other cats, your cat isn't even that good of a cat." She reached out, clasping his hand in hers. "I'll find another cat."

"And if I hate the little furball, I'll consider him a two-year tenant and I'll expect you to come get him right after graduation," Harris said.

There was something comforting about that handshake. Something that felt very final, in the best possible way. She took a step back, took a breath. "Send me updates, okay? Maria's used to me getting emails here with cat pictures."

"I'll see what I can do." He leaned over, peering into the carrier. "If he ever decides to come out." He straightened up with a smile. "If you're ever in New York, feel free to visit."

"Yeah? Won't your girlfriend have something to say about that?" she asked.

"Yes. In that I am clearly that great of a catch that girls drive from West Virginia to try to steal me," Harris deadpanned.

"You drove from New York to West Virginia to get a cat who might be scared of his own shadow," Terri pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm DUMB," Harris said, and she choked on a laugh. He grinned. "The two of you can bond over cat pictures." He reached for the carrier. "Besides. I'm sure she won't even notice. The cat. That I'm bringing home. Without any warning that I was getting a pet. She's probably-" He stopped, his mouth going thin. "Doubt she'll even notice."

Terri headed back behind the counter. "Harris?"

He glanced back. "Yeah?"

"You are dumb." She took a seat and smiled. "But I bet you'll make it through anyway."

He held up his hand, his fingers crossed. "Here's hoping."

*

As it turned out, when driving was involved, Slink was a talker.

“I think we need to stop soon,” Harris said, peering at the upcoming road stop sign. “Burgers? Or pizza?”

“Mew.”

“Right,” Harris said. “At the very least, I need coffee, and you need a break from that box, don't you?”

“Mew!” A little gray and black striped paw wiggled through the metal grate on the front of the carrier, waving idly in the air. 

Laughing, Harris reached out and tapped it with one finger. Slink's paw flexed, batting at his hand, and then retreated back into the carrier. “Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew.”

“Agreed,” Harris said, shifting in the driver's seat. “Okay, we'll stop at the next plaza, and play it by ear.” He paused. “I want a burger. You want a burger?”

“Mew.”

“Fine, cat food for you, then. Want a treat?”

'Treat' was apparently a word Slink recognized. “Mew! Mrrrrrrrrrow!”

“Okay.” Harris reached for the tube of treats that was tucked in the cup holder beside his knee. He'd lost the lid a few hours back; it was somewhere on the floor, but he didn't much care. Made for easy access. He scooped out a treat without taking his eyes off the road and slipped it into the carrier. There was a scuffling noise, and then a long, sustained purr.

Harris grinned. “Doesn't take much, does it, you drugged up little ball of fluff?”

“Mew!”

“Right, I-”

On the seat next to the carrier, his phone started to vibrate. A moment later, Darcy's ringtone echoed through the car. Harris winced. “And that's my luck running out,” he said, reaching for it. The travel plaza loomed just ahead, and he headed for the exit ramp, even as he hit the speaker button on his phone. “Hey!”

“Don't you 'hey' me,” Darcy said. She was trying hard for 'pissed off girlfriend,' but not quite managing it. “Were you going to call me back at any point?”

Harris grinned. “You called me at like midnight, I was already asleep!”

“And now it's like, two pm, and you haven't called me back,” she said, amusement running through the words. “What're you up to?”

Harris choked on a breath. “Uh, what do you mean, what am I-”

“You're up to something, because otherwise, you would've called me back this morning, you're avoiding me, and that's not acceptable.”

He let out a laugh that was probably closer to a giggle. “I'm not allowed 'me' time?”

“Sure, but when you need 'you' time, you say that.” Darcy made a humming noise under her breath. “You don't sneak off and avoid, it's not in your nature.”

“Besides, you won't put up with it,” Harris said.

“Absolutely not putting up with that shit, learn to use your words,” she said, and Harris loved her so much it hurt. “So, what're you up to?”

He navigated through the rest stop's parking lot, finding a spot on the edge of the grassy picnic area. “I had something to do yesterday, I'm on my way home now.”

The car stopped, and Slink's paw emerged again. “Mew?”

Harris grabbed for the phone, taking it off speaker. “So I-”

“Was that a cat?” Darcy said, and Harris' head fell forward against the steering wheel. Her voice rose in a half-shriek. “Was that a KITTY?”

“No,” Harris said, because it was worth a try.

“Yes, it was, at least pick logical lies, why do you have a cat, is it your cat?”

“It's-” Harris glanced at the carrier, where distinct scratching sounds could now be heard. He reached over and unlocked the door, swinging it open. There was a moment of stillness, then Slink's little black nose emerged, whiskers twitching. Harris leaned back in the driver's seat, giving the cat some space. “It's a cat. I got a cat.”

“You have a CAT!” Darcy was laughing. “You have never been sexier, Harris.”

Harris opened his mouth to object, and subsided with a sigh. “That's probably true,” he admitted. Slink eased his way out of the carrier, little paws picking their way across the front seat. He considered Harris for a second, then jumped onto the dashboard, his tail whipping back and forth behind him. “Look, I'll be back in a little while and-”

“Where are you? What shelter? You didn't go to a petshop, did you? You went to a shelter, I know you, which one, I'll come out to meet you-”

He winced, and reached for the treats. “I'm not actually... In the city.”

Darcy fell silent. “Ooooookay,” she said at last. “Where, exactly, are you?”

“I think you should wait until tomorrow, the cat needs time to adjust to the apartment before I introduce new people to the whole-”

“MEW!” Slink saw the treats and padded over to peek over the top of the steering wheel. 

“Send me a pic,” Darcy said.

“No,” Harris said, giving Slink a treat. He scarfed it up, and Harris tried to pull his hand back. Slink leaned after it, whiskers tickling Harris' palm. 

“Mew.” Slink patted Harris' fingers, clearly displeased with the lack of treats on offer. Grinning, Harris got him another one. 

“Piiiiiiiiiiicture,” Darcy wheedled, and Harris started to laugh.

“Fine.” He held up the phone, flipped it to selfie mode, and took a shot, sending it off with a flick of his finger. There was a ding on the other end of the line, and then a long silence.

“Booooooo,” Darcy said.

Harris grinned. “You're so mature in your disappointment, you know that?”

“You are the worst,” Darcy told him. “Absolute worst. I just think-”

Slink paced a few steps back and forth on the dashboard, ears flicking with each step, and then, without warning, he jumped, landing neatly on Harris' shoulder. Harris froze, and Slink settled down on his shoulder, claws digging into Harris' shoulder. “Mew?” 

Harris raised his hand, so slowly, so carefully, and took another selfie. Grinning, he sent it.

Another ding, and Darcy stopped talking. There was a soft, indrawn breath, and then she said, “Harris.”

Harris held up his hand, letting Slink sniff his fingers. “Yeah?”

“Why does the sign behind you say Maryland?”

*

“I cannot believe you took a road trip without us.”

Harris ran both hands over his face. “It wasn't- It wasn't a road trip.” He dropped his arms down to his sides. “It was an act of insanity, not a pleasure trip.”

Shawn stared at him, his mouth set in a thin line. “You took a road trip. Without us.”

“He's honestly angry with you right now,” Drew said, perching himself on the edge of Harris' kitchen counter. He braced one hand beside him, leaning slightly back. “I didn't think it was possible. Out of all of us. You're the one that pissed him off first.”

“I am not pissed off,” Shawn said, the picture of dignity. “I'm hurt.”

Harris threw his hands in the air. “I drove six hours-”

“Probably seven,” Darcy said, leaning up against the counter next to the coffee pot. She was keeping an eagle eye on its slow progress.

“Closer to seven,” Harris said to Shawn. “Really. Seven hours. In a car. And I left at like, one am, it was not a good idea, I wasn't going to call and wake you up.”

“It's cute that you think we're asleep at one am,” Drew drawled.

“You couldn't wait to tell them, could you?” Harris asked Darcy, who smirked at him.

“Nope!”

Harris turned back to Shawn. “It was seven-”

Shawn's eyebrows arched. “Yes, I heard you,” he said. “Seven hours. Seven whole hours? In a CAR?” He leaned forward. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to fly to Pakistan from New York, Harris?”

Harris paused. “No,” he admitted.

“Like, sixteen hours,” Shawn said. He gave Harris a thin smile. “Sixteen hours. On a plane. Possibly multiple planes. With layovers that can stretch for a day or more.” He reached out and patted Harris on the shoulder. “I have a black belt in long distance travel, and you think I'd be put off by seven hours? In a CAR?”

His voice rose a little more with each word, and Harris leaned back. “Okay, so, maybe I should've called you,” he admitted.

“Maybe you should have!” Shawn said, throwing his hands in the air, and Drew caught him by the back of his shirt.

'Okay, okay, we know now that if there's a trip of over twenty minutes, you want in,” he said, struggling against a smile, his eyes dancing. “Dial it back, Mr. Frequent Flier Miles.” Shawn mumbled something under his breath in a language Harris didn't recognize, and Drew leaned forward to press a kiss to his hair. “Aw, poor baby.” He wrapped his arms around Shawn's shoulders from behind. “Tell you what, you go on the internet and find some stupid local festival in some podunk town three hundred miles from here and we'll rent a car and go.”

“I don't want-” Shawn started, and then he stopped, his mouth working. “There's a garlic festival in Minnesota.”

“Awesome,” Darcy said. 

“Oh, God,” Harris said, rubbing his forehead. Darcy grinned at him, unrepentant. “This is your fault.”

“Yep!” The coffee pot beeped, and she reached for the cabinet above her. “Who wants caffeine?”

“Me,” Drew sang out. Shawn opened his mouth, and Drew covered it with one hand. “You're one espresso away from a stress related heart attack, babe.”

“He'll just steal yours,” Darcy said, handing a cup over to Drew.

“I've accepted that it is my lot in life to be used in such a manner,” Drew agreed.

Darcy held the second cup out to Harris, who shook his head. “No, I'm-”

She pressed it into his hand. “Take it. You look like shit.”

“And she's got standards, shape up,” Drew said, taking a sip of his coffee before letting Shawn take it from him. 

“Yes, sir.” Harris took the cup, wrapping both hands around it. The heat was comforting, and he raised it up, inhaling the steam that curled around his face. “Thanks, Darce.”

“Uh-huh.” Darcy busied herself pouring a cup of her own. “So. Where is the cat?”

“Adjusting,” Harris said. “Don't traumatize him.”

“Adjusting where?” she asked.

“He's only got two rooms,” Drew said, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling. “Cat's not here, or in the living room, which we can see, so...”

“Bedroom!” Shawn said, heading in that direction, Drew hot on his heels.

“Do not bother the cat!” Harris yelled after them, too tired to even try to stop this. He was resigned, but it was also nice. It was easier, when they were there, making noise, taking up space, rifling through his drawers and messing with his DVR settings. Disordering his life. His life had too much order, too many long, still silences.

“Hey.”

Harris glanced at Darcy. She was smiling at him. “So, what's up?” she asked, leaning against the counter, her hips canted forward, her hands wrapped around her coffee cup.

Harris took a long drink of his coffee. “I got a cat!” 

“I heard!” Darcy took a sip of coffee, her dark eyes curious behind the rims of her glasses. “Harris? Why this cat?”

Harris raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. “No reason. I just- I saw him on one of those adopt-a-cat posts that go around sometimes, and I just liked him.”

“You must've. To drive that far. In the middle of the night.” Darcy set her cup aside. “So. Why this cat?”

He considered lying. There didn't seem to be any point. Harris took a deep breath. “He was brought in to the shelter as a kitten.” He stared down at the dregs of his coffee. “That was six years ago.”

He looked up. “Six years. His entire life, he's lived in that shelter. There's nothing wrong with him. He's not aggressive, he's not sick. He's not great with kids or other animals, so he'd be better as an only pet for an adult, but...” He shook his head. “There's plenty of those. And still. Six years.”

The words made his stomach hurt, made his chest ache. “There's nothing wrong with him,” he said, meeting Darcy's eyes. “There was just always someone better. There was always a cuter kitten or a cuddly lap cat or an old cat that couldn't handle living in the shelter. There was always a better choice.

“So he stayed. He stayed there for six years, and it's a nice shelter, with nice people, but-” He stopped, because this was stupid, this was completely idiotic, and he was not going to cry over a damn cat. He took a deep breath, and another one, blinking hard against the way his eyes burned. He turned away, putting his coffee cup down. “No one wanted him, Darce.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod. “But you did.”

“I don't know, I don't-” Harris let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling. “I just... Thought he deserved a chance, you know? My place is small, and I'm not around all day, so he'll be alone, but it's...”

Darcy let out a breath, her lips curling up in a slight smile. “But that's a good match for this cat.” She held out her arms. “You're such a dork, you know that, right?”

“I'm aware.” He slipped his arms around her waist, clinging hard to her. She was soft and warm, and her hair smelled vaguely citrusy, bright and familiar. He buried his face against the soft waves. “It was stupid.”

Her arms tightened, her fingers digging into his back. “It was amazing, and I expected nothing less from you, you adorable dork.”

He laughed against her hair. “You just saying that because now I have a cat?”

“It does give you a certain appealing something, it's true,” she said, turning her head so she could nuzzle his throat. Harris laughed, and he was pretty sure he was crying, but it was all right, because Darcy was making zombie noises as she gnawed playfully at his shoulder. “I'm going to steal your cat.”

“Good luck finding it!” Drew said from the bedroom door. He braced his hands on the doorframe, his body rocking forward. “Cat's not in the carrier.”

Darcy twisted around to lean back against Harris' chest, and Harris scrubbed at his face with the heel of one hand. “Leave him alone,” he said with a smile. “You're going to stress him out.”

Drew made a face. “I am a delight,” he said, his nose in the air, and then Shawn was behind him, urging him back into the living room. “Tell them I'm a delight.”

Shawn gave him an affectionate smile. “He's a delight,” he agreed, gripping Drew by the shoulders and steering him towards the couch. “Know what makes new cats feel safe and happy in their new living space?”

“What?” Harris asked, resting his chin on Darcy's shoulder.

“Chinese take out,” Drew said.

Harris pointed at the fridge. “You know where the menu is.” 

“Do you even want Chinese?” Darcy asked, tipping her head back to look at him as Shawn and Drew raced each other across the small apartment.

Harris opened his mouth, but before he could say a thing, something moved in the corner of his eye. He glanced over, just in time to see a little gray and black striped tabby wander through, a sock clamped firmly in his mouth. Harris grinned, wrapping his arms around Darcy's waist. “Know what? I think I do.”


End file.
